It's 5 a.m., why aren't YOU awake?

I was awoken this morning at 5 a.m. by 2 huge, itching mosquito bites on each of my legs. Yes, a bugger got in and had a good blood-sucking party on me mid-sleep cycle. After peeing and itching like a banshee, I had total mommy paranoia. As soon as Syl hit 4 months, I rarely got those midnight fears of her not breathing...must go check...feel her chest....get reassured moments. I probably never experienced those cuz she wasn't sleeping through the night till 10 months. So if I thought she wasn't breathing, I would simply wait a few minutes to hear her screaming for more boob. That was my reassurance that everything was ok. But before bed last night, her nose was really stuffy (to that annoying point where it was annoying her). So I gave her a little Benadryl and sent her on her happy-drug-induced way. I mean seriously, can a tbs really harm even the smallest, blood-sucking mosquito? Probably not, but I had to go check on her...feel her chest...discover her sleeping sideways with hear pushed to wall...take sigh of relief. Then I had to feel baby-in-oven move...kick...reassured. I guess the paranoia may never end.
It comes equipped with motherhood (I'd say parenthood, but I've yet to see the statistical proof that daddy's experience this absurd emotion as intensely as mommies).

So here you are, up to speed, with myself being fully awake at now 5:45 am. Maybe I should make crepes for breakfast.

Another unexpected pregnancy-induced symptom is numbness of my right hand. Like now, as I'm in the typing position (which was taught to me in a high school typing class, ya know, to train me to be a proper secretary) and my right hand is numb and tingly. Obviously its not stopping me from my early morning/late night rambling, but it kinda blows. Oh, and I just thought of another symptom I didn't experience with Syl: big feetness. My shoes are all suddenly really tight, even the shoes I've owned for like 5 years and are super stretched out. On a recent trip to TJ Maxx, I fit in a 9 (I pride myself on my petite 7.5 tootsies, 8 if the shoe is narrow). The egotistical girl in me couldn't come to bear a 9, so I didn't get those shoes. I know, superficial. But it kinda makes me add it to the list of why I should give this baby a semi-torturous name for his entire life. On that list would also be "because you tried to kick your way out via my cervix every night at bedtime." Maybe I should make a list, for old times sake. And really, what else is there to do at 5:41 a.m.?

The List of Things to Hold Over My In-Utero Sons Head/Why I Gave You That Ridiculous Name and Didn't Feel Bad About it List:
1)because you threw 17 long, sometimes torturous, guilt-filled years of not consuming any meat products (which by the way includes avoiding Starbursts and marshmallows) down the toilet

2)though you aren't the most active in-utero baby, you decide to attempt to climb/claw/kick your way out through my precious cervix (or somewhere really, really low in my pelvis) right at bedtime, prolonging my difficult falling-to-sleep time

3)because for you, my dear, I was sick for the first 5 months of pregnancy, and still, at almost 6 months, have very little energy/stamina

4)because having a semi-traumatic name from birth gives you an eternal bitterness that can only stem from having said traumatic name. plus a resentment towards your parents that can't ever be fixed, and isn't that priceless?

5)because at this point, I'm kinda feeling like opening There's a Zamp in my Lamp by Dr. Seuss and naming you wherever my finger may fall

6)because your true friends will never make fun of your name (to your face)

7)because you, my son to be, mark the end a my baby-making phase in life. Yes, it was only 2 kids long (and 2 miscarriages, but I may leave that part out of his story) but it goes well beyond the 10 month gestational period, well over the 18+ month nursing phase, and into the part where I feel like my body/mind/ bed is partially mine again. Isn't that long enough to extend some torture unto my offspring?

This concludes my now 6am ramble. If you ever wanted to know whether or not my sarcasm and endless babbling can occur at any time in the day, the answer is YES!

P.S. Happy Birthday to Dave, the Husband that Tolerates Me and My Woes!